


When the Past Comes Calling

by ren (renegadewriter)



Category: Marvel (Movies), The Avengers (2012), The Avengers - All Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Bruce Feels, Gen, Hulk is a Bit Protective, Hurt/Comfort, Science Bros, Some Tony Feels as Well, mentions of child abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-02
Updated: 2012-09-02
Packaged: 2017-11-13 09:06:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/501804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/renegadewriter/pseuds/ren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <a href="http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/9218.html?thread=20496386#t20496386">
    <strong>Prompt from avengerkink</strong>
  </a>
</p><p>:</p><p>
  <em>Bruce's father is still in prison. He gets extremely sick and there is nothing the doctors can do. He asks Bruce to come visit him on his deathbed. Bruce at first says no, but Tony convinces him to go.</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	When the Past Comes Calling

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt on avengerkink for britt_m_89 on LJ
> 
> _Bruce's father is still in prison. He gets extremely sick and there is nothing the doctors can do. He asks Bruce to come visit him on his deathbed. Bruce at first says no, but Tony convinces him to go._
> 
> This was supposed to be a mini fill and then it kinda grew and more feels starting pouring in XD 
> 
> I went with them being science bros but can be viewed as pre-slash if you want.
> 
> Hope you enjoy it! ^^
> 
> _'thoughts/inner conversation'_
> 
> **_talking over the phone_ **

That phone call changed Bruce’s life. When Jarvis woke him past midnight and told him there was a man on the phone asking for Bruce, he hadn't thought much about it. As strange as him of all people getting a phone call, he wasn't worried. 

**_'Bruce?'_ **

Hearing that voice on the other side though, was like a thousand searing needles piercing his heart. Bruce tensed, the Hulk stirring as his mind was assaulted by images of his past... a small boy being beaten and yelled at, of blood and bruises, the still form of a woman.

"Dad?" He breathed shakily, emotions jumping from one to the other in chaotic confusion. Bruce wasn't sure what he felt, what he was _supposed_ to feel. Anger that the man had dared to call, fear at having to talk with his father after years of avoiding him, disbelief that shadowed everything else, or… nothing. 

**_'Hi Bruce. I saw you on T.V..... You've grown.'_** Anger was starting to win over everything else. His hands started to tremble, the Hulk rising within, closer to the surface.

“What do you want?” In any other situation the ice and venom in his voice might have disgusted him… not now, not when this was a part of his life he'd left behind, had managed to speak about for the first time after a bad nightmare, waking to Tony's blank face, something furious and dark in his eyes.

_"You were talking in your sleep." He said, voice tight._

__

_"Oh, wha- what did I say?" Bruce tried to avoid Tony’s gaze, bringing a hand to rub at his eyes, willing the flashes of blood and an enraged face out of his mind._

__

_"Something about, 'please don't hurt me, I'll be good, please don't hurt me dad'…" Tony trailed off, teeth clenching._

Bruce had told Tony what he wanted to know, and Tony had been there for him. Never once interrupting, encouraging him to let it all out. Oh Tony had been _furious_ , vowing that he would never let anyone hurt him like that again. It had felt... good... to talk about it, not having to hide it or be scared that people would see him as the freak his father saw. Tony had given him a way of moving past all those memories. 

And now…

**_‘I want to see you.'_ **

"No. You don't get to do this." The rhythm of his breathing increased, heart pounding. Bruce ran a hand through his hair, leaving it there for his finger to curl into it, finding an anchor in all this. “You don't get to come into my life and order me around, I-”

**_‘I'm dying, Bruce.’_** Brian Banner's voice cut him off, raising in volume. Bruce shut his eyes tight, a wave of nausea hitting him as he went over the first thing that went through his head at the sudden statement.

‘ _Good.’_

Swallowing hard, he shook his head, taking deep breaths to calm him rampant emotions. Already the Other Guy was starting to try and fight him for control, twisting and jerking under his skin. He couldn’t afford to Hulk-out now, not in his present state of mind. 

“And you decided you wanted to see me?” Disbelieving, dry, and anguished. "Why?" He demanded, the heel of his palm digging into his eye. 

‘ _Wanted to hurt me one last time? Wanted me to remember who would always win? Is that it?’_  

Bruce paced in his room, checking the clock to verify the late hour: 1:45 a.m, and he briefly wondered how his father had been able to call him at all. 

There was a sigh from the other side of the phone. **_'Please Bruce.’_**

Bruce laughed, mirthlessly and dark. "Please? Please!? How many times did I say that? How many times did I _beg_ you to stop!?" He didn't scream, his voice leveled, the anger latched to his voice enough to convey what yelling never could. “This,” He snarled. “- is how having that plea ignored feels like.” 

Without hesitation he slammed the phone on the night-table, the Hulk's strength that had been bleeding into him enough to break it apart, pieces of the furniture falling to the ground alongside the smashed phone.

Bruce stood panting, inhaling and exhaling loudly, trying to convince the Hulk that everything was okay, he didn't need to come out. He didn't know how long he stood there like that, but all of a sudden there were tears in his eyes, the rage burning in him changing to flames of despair and hurt. 

He choked on a sob, letting himself fall on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees and burying his head in his unsteady hands. He tried to fight back the sobs, but knowing it was pointless, slid down the side of the bed so his back was to it and let his head fall on his knees, hands now tugging at his hair in anguish. 

Then... he let himself cry. 

  


**00000000000000000**   


  


Tony found him like that. Hidden from view by the large bed, room dark but for a small lamp on the night-table, barely having escaped destruction by an angry fist. He was curled into himself, body trembling and slight hiccups making his shoulders jerk. 

He approached slowly, making soft noises so as to not startle the man. Jarvis had told him what happened; Bruce receiving a call, his vitals spiking in stress as the conversation continued, the violent end of the phone... and this. The AI knew who the caller was, but for privacy reasons had not listened in on the conversation. Knowing who the caller had been was enough to explain Bruce's reaction though, and it made him furious to see how that man was still hurting his son.

"Bruce?" 

He was met with a small whimper, but no movement or acknowledgment beyond that. Tony moved around the bed, sitting beside the scientist, arms and legs touching- reassuring, comforting... _there_.  He didn't say anything, not yet. Oh there were a lot of things he wanted to say, wanted to ask… but he knew the only way to get any answers was to let Bruce make the first move. They stayed like that for what seemed like hours, but Tony didn't mind, not when it came to Bruce.

The billionaire had felt a sort of kinship with the scientist ever since they met on the Hellicarrier. Reading his file, Tony had felt sickened that the man had been persecuted and hurt with weapons he’d helped design. But more than that, Tony had _seen_ the tortured soul in him, as both Bruce Banner _and_ the Hulk. Scientist and monster were full of hatred, fueled by unending fear and so very very _lonely._ It had _..._ hit something in him _,_ made him feel protective. Provoking a need to make sure he never had a reason to run again, to be left alone in a state or terror and pain. 

During the months Bruce had stayed in the tower they had grown close. They were ‘science-bros’. Looked out for each other. When an upset Jarvis had contacted him about Bruce’s vitals being all over the place a few weeks after all the mess with the Chitauri, he had rushed to his room, finding out a bit more about the calm and withdrawn scientist.

Tony was torn from the memories of a distraught Bruce, face tear-streaked as he recounted his childhood, when the man in question turned his head, soaked cheek resting on his knees and spoke.

"Dad called." His voice was small, vulnerable, _tired_. "He's dying."

Tony blinked.

Oh.

That was… unexpected.

"Are you… alright?" He ventured uncertainly. 

"…No?" Bruce sniffed noisily, his nose stuffy and eyes swollen by the tears. "I don't… I don't know." 

The billionaire nodded, like it was normal. And it was. The man that was supposed to protect you as a child being the one that beat you within an inch of your life... one would expect to feel hatred or relief. Tony knew that was how he would have felt, how he was feeling right now knowing Bruce's abuser was kicking the bucket. But at the same time…

"He's family." He said mostly to himself, his own unhappy childhood rearing its head. Howard had never raised a hand toward him, but neglect was also abuse, and Tony could say he hadn't been happy the man had died, if only because once he was dead, Tony was out of chances to get the man's attention somehow. He also hadn't been sure if he was alright or not when people asked during the funeral, and that if nothing else had been the hardest to cope with. Maybe he could spare Bruce that. 

Letting out a sigh, Bruce closed his eyes once more, letting fresh tears stain his pajama pants, arms tightening around his legs. 

"Yeah." He whispered pained. Agreeing, and tortured because of it. 

"He wants me to go see him."

Tony looked at him, finally understanding the problem. 

"You should go."

Bruce looked at him like he was crazy, and like he’d been betrayed. "I thought you of all people would encourage me _not_ to go." He said slowly.

Tony shrugged. "Truth is, I wouldn't mind if the guy died right now," Bruce averted his eyes. "-but like I said, he's family, and even that piece of trash should get a chance to apologize." 

The scientist snorted disdainfully. "Apologize? You really think _that’s_ why he wants to see me?" He shook his head doubtingly. 

"Maybe, maybe not. You'll never really know if you don't go and might regret it later on. I mean… not that I want you anywhere near him but… this could, I don't know, give you closure or something. God knows I didn't get that." The billionaire frowned at the dark room, the glow of his reactor casting shadows around his face and Bruce's. 

Now Bruce looked guilty. "Sorry, I didn't mean to bring bad memories."

"Nahh." Tony waved him off. "Not bad memories, just… viewing it from another perspective, considering your current situation." He stared ahead, pursing his lips thoughtfully. "He can't hurt you."

"Punches aren't the only way to hurt someone." That was what was really worrying Bruce. He didn’t know if he could take cruel and cutting words thrown at him. He could take a punch, had learned to just roll with it as he grew up. The danger was Hulk reacting to it, and ohooo just the thought had the Big Guy shifting restlessly under his skin. 

Tony's fists tightened at the reminder of Bruce's abuse. "I know that." He gritted out, running a hand over this face in an attempt to calm himself. 

Sighing again, Bruce straightened enough so he could let his head fall on Tony's shoulder. "I think you're right, I should go see him. I just don't want to." Honestly he’d been counting on Tony giving him an excuse not to go. 

Smiling softly, Tony wrapped his arm around Bruce's shoulders offering him a comforting pat on his arm. "Don't worry, I mean, it's not like you're going alone." 

Blinking, the scientist shifted a bit to look up at him. "You... want to come with me?"

"Pfft, not gonna let my science-bro go on his own."

"Hmmmm." Letting his head fall back on Tony's should, Bruce smiled. "I'd like that."

  


**00000000000000000**

  


Despite all their talk and plans, Bruce was a nervous mess, his usual tranquility corrupted by the thoughts of seeing his father for the first time since his incarceration a lifetime ago, which was not helping any in keeping the Other Guy calm. 

"This was a bad idea." He murmured for the thousandth time as the guards came over to do the usual checks. Tony groaned, shooting a glare at him as he spread his arms so the guards could run their metal detecting thingy over them and his sides. 

"Don't make me drag you in Bruce." He said, facing the scientist as he was run through the same procedure. "I did not go through all the trouble to get you out here without the others knowing for you to chicken out at the last second.” Actually, Jarvis had taken care of that but... _whatever_. 

"More like Hulking-Out." Bruce muttered, earning a smirk from Tony- which quickly turned into a glare at the guard when the metal detector went off over his chest, giving him his best 'I-will-sue-you-if-you-even- _dare_ ' look when it was obvious the young officer was going to ask him to remove his shirt. 

The security guard, knowing who Tony was, wisely clicked his mouth shut and let them pass. They were led through the the medical wing, security less strict here than it was for the rest of the prison, passing rooms that had large glass windows looking in, several inmates laying on the medical beds in various states: some with injuries obviously gotten from fights and handcuffed to the bed's railings, while others seemed mildly sick from the flu or other nasty diseases. Nurses and doctors were shadowed by more officers in case someone decided to try and escape or grab one of the doctors as hostages. 

Tony had to roll his eyes and grab Bruce by the arm when he started lagging, hands fidgeting. "Come on Big Guy, no turning back now.”

They reached the end of the hallway, the officer knocking twice on the last door. This room didn’t have a window, and that made Bruce feel worse. The prospect of not being completely cut off from the world had made slightly less nervous, but now, being stuck in a room with his father... 

A nurse came out, closing the door behind her. The name tag on her uniform read Anna; she was pretty, and young. But her eyes had an old feel to them, like she’d seen too much in this hellhole. 

“Mr. Banner?”

“Doctor.” Tony corrected. Bruce elbowed him.

“Dr. Banner. I’m glad you came.” She said pleasantly. “Have you been informed as to your father’s condition?” 

Bruce winced at hearing someone else speak of his father like they had the typical ‘father-son’ relationship one saw in sappy movies. He refrained from saying anything, merely shaking his head, prompting the nurse to explain. 

 “Your father has a brain tumor.” She started without beating around the bush, but her tone was gentle. “It was discovered after he started having seizures. He had been complaining about migraines and nausea, but the doctors thought he might just be coming down with something.” Sighing, she twirled a pencil in her hand before continuing. “We started to run tests as soon as the first seizure hit, but due to his age the doctors were convinced it was acute symptomatic seizures.”

Bruce nodded absentmindedly, knowing the diagnostic to be a logical choice as it was one of the most common neurologic complaints in the elderly. He felt winded in knowing the real cause, not having imagined this at all. 

“After a few more tests we found the tumor, but it was already too late. The tumor is too big and the location makes any attempts to remove it extremely dangerous. No amount of radiation or chemotherapy would do any good.” She fell silent. “I’m sorry.”

Letting out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, Bruce tried to smile reassuringly at her, but must have failed miserably seeing the distress on her face. 

“Is he able to talk?” He asked instead. Tony shot him a look from his side, knowing he was stalling. 

“Yes, you can go right in.” Anna hesitated, saying a few words before leaving them. “It’s good to finally meet you, he’s never stopped talking about his son.” 

Shutting his eyes tight, her heels clicking away, the scientist bowed his head, chest constricting at her words. He was angry at her, and at his father for deceiving her like that, making her believe Bruce was loved. Did she not know why his dad was here in the first place? 

“Hey.” Tony placed a hand on his shoulder. “You’re gonna be alright.” 

Bruce wasn’t so sure. They hadn’t bothered to find out why Brain Banner was dying, just took Tony’s car and drove to the prison the next morning. A brain tumor changed everything. He went over the some of the possible symptoms the nurse hadn’t mentioned: mood swings, changes in personality and worse of all... memory loss. What if Brian didn’t remember what he’d done to his son? What if the phone call had been a consequence of a strong personality shift, one where he felt guilty or wanted redemption? What if this was not something the _real_ Brian would have done? 

“Want me to go in with you?” 

He took a moment to think about it, but shook his head.

“I have to do this on my own.” The grip on his shoulder tightened. 

“You’re not alone.” 

“I know, but still...” 

Tony made an understanding noise, letting his hand drop. 

“I’ll be here, anything you need, you’re not alone. Just remember that.”

Licking his lips Bruce gave him a thankful look, steeling himself before opening the door, and walking in. 

  


**00000000000000000**

  


****

The room was small and bare, walls white, a small window with bars was on the other side, a beeping sound drew his attention to the heart monitor to the side, opposite from the bed. It gave him just one more second before he had to face his father. 

“Bruce?”

Swallowing, Bruce gave himself a mental push, turning his head to the figure on the bed. The man was a stranger. Hair grey with white streaks, face wrinkled and scared (probably got into fights with other inmates too), tinted with a sickly hue. He had lost weight, arms looking gangly and bony. 

“Hey... dad.” The words felt weird on his lips.

Brian sat up, or tried to at least. His arms were weak, and his elbows gave out twice before he managed to prop himself up. Bruce didn’t know how to react to that, and stayed were he was, feeling helpless. 

“You came.” The effort had left him out of breath, signs of sweat on his forehead. 

Thumb running over his fingers, Bruce took a moment to answer, still standing at the doorway and looking everywhere but at him. The Hulk recognized the man on the bed, and was snarling deep in his mind, bristling in a way that gave Bruce goosebumps. 

“What do you want?” 

“Is it strange for an old dying man to want to see his son?” 

Bruce finally met his eyes, glaring at him. “When the old dying man in question is you and the son me... yes. It is.” He said coldly, finally moving to sit on the lone chair that was leaning against the wall farthest from the bed. 

His father looked away for a moment, weighing something in his mind. 

“What do you want? Why am I here?” Bruce asked again, finger tapping on his knee in an attempt to distract himself from the rising anger that wanted to take on a green form. 

Brian chuckled secretively, shaking his head before meeting his sons’s eyes. Bruce recoiled. They hadn’t changed, not as much as he’d expected after years of being apart, not as much as he’d hoped. The violence was still there, fed by the darkness sticking to every brick and tile of the prison, there was the same judgmental glint he’d always aimed at Bruce- right before he told an eight year old how useless and what a freak he was... the anger had never left. Somehow though, all that seemed to be aimed elsewhere. 

For a moment Bruce shut his eyes tight, taking in a deep breath. The Other Guy was getting agitated by the memories he was seeing, roaring and thrashing. After this, Bruce was going to have to let him out in the room Tony and he had built for such purposes, there was no way he was calming on his own. 

_‘Stop it. I’m fine. We’re fine. There’s no danger here.’_

_‘Bad man! Bad man hurt Banner! Smash!’_

__

_‘No. Not here. Not now. Calm._ Down _.’_

__

“Fascinating.” Bruce opened his eyes again, staring at his father but avoiding meeting his gaze again. 

“What is?”

Brian gave him an appraising look, a small twist in his lips. “You have control over the monster.”

A growl almost made it past his throat. A growl not his own. 

“Is that why you called me? Wanted to see the evidence proving I’m a freak, just like you always said?” Bruce tried to keep his tone casually curious, but the waver in it and the tightening around his eyes gave him away. 

“Not really.” Brian suddenly coughed, not as bad to call it a fit but nearly there. Bruce was suddenly reminded that this man was dying. And still... he didn’t have an answer. 

“Answer me.” He didn’t bother keeping the frustration out of his voice this time; Brian could see right through him anyway. “Or I’ll leave.” 

Waving a hand in an ‘alright’ motion while clearing his throat, they set in silence for a few seconds so his father could regain his breath. 

“Just wanted to see you.” 

“That’s it?” Bruce snorted. “I thought you’d have seen me on the news.” He bowed his head slightly. “Why?”

“Isn’t that enough?” Bruce would have automatically said ‘no’, probably really lost his temper this time... but there was something in his father’s voice he’d never heard before. Something soft. 

Brian chuckled again. “You don’t have to look so suspicious Bruce. I’m not that far gone, at least not yet. When the doctors told me I could start loosing my memory or becoming bipolar or something... I panicked.” 

The younger man stayed silent, the Other Guy as still as he was for the moment, both waiting to see where this was going. 

“I was scared I’d forget everything I’d done. To you, to your mother.”

Bruce stood up furious, anger contorting his face, the Hulk screaming, banging on the shields he’s put up to keep him locked deep. He paced the room, body shaking and jerking as he fought the Hulk down alongside his own anger.

“You didn’t want to forget?” He gritted. “What, did you enjoy it that much you couldn't bare to do without the reminder? Wanted to close your eyes and still be able to see us in pain!? Is that it!?” He said raising his voice, rage and pain clinging to it. Their eyes met again, Bruce’s now bright green, poisonous. 

In a few moments Bruce wasn’t sure he would be able to keep the Other Guy from making an appearance. He wasn't sure he wanted to anymore. 

Brian exhaled softly, almost... sadly; that caught him by surprise. 

“No.” 

“Bruce!?” There was a frantic knock on the door, for a moment drawing his attention away from his father. 

Tony. 

“You okay?” On the other side of the door, Tony waited to hear something, anything. He’d been monitoring Bruce vitals- on the scientist’s request. They had being increasing and decreasing, but now they had spiked and would soon reach the 200 pulsation mark. What had happened? Tony wanted to intervene, but Bruce had made him promise to only come in if he said so. 

“Bruce, answer me!” 

Back in the room, Bruce took a few deep breaths like he’d learned in Brazil before walking closer to the door, but not opening it. 

“I’m fine Tony.” His voice was hoarse, tone drifting in and out from Hulk’s own unique vocals. 

The billionaire hesitated. “You sure?” 

The scientist looked at his father’s face. There was no malice in it, a strange sight for Bruce to witness after years of only seeing hatred in it. _No._ He’d said. So what did he mean about wanting to remember? 

“Yeah, I’m sure. Just... give me a few more minutes.” 

Not waiting for an answer, Bruce walked to stand next to his father, his weakened, deteriorating, _vulnerable_ state more obvious up close. 

“What did you mean?” He demanded, not willing to be patient anymore. He wanted answers, and then he wanted to leave. The emotional scars that had mended, the ones that had been in the process of healing had been cut wide open, and there was only so much he could take. 

“Bruce...son-” Brian started, voice too gentle for Bruce to know how to deal with. “I want to die knowing what I did. I want to die with the knowledge of how much I messed up, as a husband, as a father... and as a human being. Dying without the memories of what I did, that I hurt you... “ He shook his head, voice breaking. “-it would not be fair to you, or your mother.” 

Bruce started pacing like a trapped animal, hands rubbing at his face, over his head, eyes roaming everywhere, unsure, scared, and still angry. 

“So what, seeing me was your way of making sure that didn’t happen? I mean what, this is your way of an apology? Calling me away from a life where I didn’t have to deal with this, to having it all throw back in my face, all so you could _remember_?” 

It made no sense, not from the victim’s point of view. Sure, Bruce was bypassing his father admitting he was ashamed of what he had done and wanted to die with that tied to him like barbwire, face the other side in a sane state rather then not knowing why he was being punished, had even subtly apologized... but it was wrong. I was selfish and Bruce hated him for it.

“You don’t get to play the repentant abuser while hurting me one last time. Don’t you get that?” He was exhausted, he wanted to go home.

“Please Bruce, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“Then why did you come?” The famous temper was peeking over the dam.

_‘-he's family, and even that piece of trash should get a chance to apologize...’_ Tony’s words echoed in his head.

“Because I thought you’d apologize, not use me again for your own goals.” 

Brian shook his head, Bruce couldn't tell why. “I’m sorry. I keep screwing up.” 

The silence that fell over the room was suffocating. Brian had let his head fall on his chest, eyes staring at his limp hands on his lap. There had been sincerity in his words, but Bruce was too trapped in the past to not be affected. The Other Guy was still there, right under the surface, but still, vigilant. 

“Is that all?” He asked finally, stoically. 

“I’ve said all the wrong things. I do want to apologize. And I was being serious when I said I didn’t want to forget my sins. I will not die an ignorant man.” Brian licked his lips, breath labored again. 

Letting out a deep sigh, Bruce walked over again, taking a small styrofoam cup with a straw from the small table next to the bed and holding it for him. Brian looked up surprised, but with hope in his eyes. Bruce wanted to hate him for it, but Tony’s voice was still in his ear. 

“I only ever wanted you to love me. Accept me for who I am.” He said quietly, resigned and just wanting to leave. 

“I _do_ love you.”

“Is that the truth?”

A thin hand reached up toward him, the Hulk bristling again at the action, but mysteriously... Bruce didn’t flinch. The touch was gentle on his cheek, and he closed his eyes, leaning into it. This... affection... the softness reflected in his father’s eyes, the emotions he’d never seen before.... this was what he had wanted all those years ago.

“It is.”

**00000000000000**

**  
**

****

The drive back home was silent. Tony had been pacing the hallway with a scowl on his face, checking his phone with Bruce vitals over and over when the scientist had left the room with his head bowed, walking ahead and motioning for Tony to follow him. 

The billionaire got the message. 

_I’m fine, I don’t want to talk about, not yet. Let’s go._

__

And had fallen into step beside him. 

During the trip, Tony stole glances at him, expecting a closed off expression, or saddened, maybe even hurt. But there was only... peace. It was disconcerting, but no unwelcome. He wondered what had been said in there, but knew better than to pry. Yet. 

“Thank you.” 

Tony startled at the sudden breach in the silence, taking a second to stare a Bruce before turning back to the road. 

“For?”

“Making me see him again.”

“So I take it everything went well? After you know... that violent spike in your vitals?” 

Bruce made an affirmative noise. “What was done can not be undone and I’m not sure can ever be forgiven or that I’ll be able to. But I think... I finally got what I yearned for all those years ago. Extremely late, with very bad timing but...” Tony chanced a look again as his voice trailed off softly. 

There were tears in Bruce’s eyes, but he was smiling. 

“So, are you...alright?” Tony echoed his question from the night before, and Bruce finally knew how to answer. 

“Yeah. I am.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Like? ^^


End file.
